


Debriefing

by edibleflowers



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 06:00:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After combat, Tony needs a helping hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Debriefing

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of Steve/Tony fluff to try to break my block. Set after the movie. Many thanks to lemniskate67 for the title.

Tony starts to sag as the armor peels itself off of him. The battle had been brief, but intense, and he feels as if he's been batted around like a pinball caught in the bumpers for twenty minutes straight. Fortunately, before he falls over, strong arms catch him up.

"Here, lean on me," Steve says. Tony's too tired to even argue.

"Under any other circumstance," he says instead, as Steve begins to drag him toward the bedroom.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Steve chuckles. It's a low, dry laugh, one Tony's been working hard to get out of him. "You're the tough guy, you walk away from every fight."

 _Every one so far_ , Tony thinks, but, for a wonder, manages to keep from saying. At a time like this, he'd expect his inner censor to be completely offline. Maybe he's too tired to talk. _Yeah, right._ The day Tony Stark is too tired to talk is the day they put him in the ground.

Steve sits him down on the bench outside the bathroom and tugs Tony's shoes off; Tony rolls his head back against the wall, regarding him. "Steve Rogers is taking my clothes off," he remarks to no one in particular. Steve snorts as he sets the sneakers aside and peels the socks away next. " _Captain America_ is taking my clothes off," Tony says. That gets another chuckle, a momentary shake of Steve's shoulders; then Steve lifts up and pulls up on the hem of Tony's vintage tee.

"That's right," Steve says. "Captain America is disrobing you. I thought you were over this by now. Come on, arms up."

Tony groans, but he obeys. "I will never get over the fact that the Star-Spangled Man--"

"I hate that, Tony, you know I hate it when you call me that--"

"--sleeps in my bed every night. And you can't make me." Tony grins as Steve strips the shirt off, his expression only mildly aggrieved.

"Fine. I won't," Steve mutters. "You want to get the jeans?"

"I want you to," Tony says, and pushes his hips forward until they're at the edge of the bench, his nape pressed uncomfortably to the wall, torso slanted at an angle that might be inviting under any other circumstance. He feels drunk with exhaustion; Steve laughs but just undoes his belt, drags the jeans down, tugging the boxers with them.

"Come on, Iron Man. Into the shower."

* * *

Steve does a thorough job of washing Tony, who would much rather slump against the tile and just soak under the hot water. He has to admit that it's nicer to be clean afterwards, and as a bonus he gets to sit on the built-in seat and watch Steve wash up. Steve, naturally, is as fresh as if he'd just sprung up from a full night's sleep; as he scrubs up, Tony gives an appreciative wolf-whistle, just to see Steve go even redder than he'd been.

It's still a little strange that this happened at all, given the adversarial nature of their relationship when they'd first met. In the days that had followed, though, arguing had taken a backseat to teamwork; after the Chitauri had been mopped up and Loki returned to Asgard to face justice, Steve was the first to accept Tony's invitation to move into Stark Tower.

They still fight, of course; that's half the fun, especially when it's over utterly inconsequential minutae like what Tony eats for breakfast (three cups of coffee and a couple of jelly doughnuts, it's always worked just fine for him, it's not like he has the metabolism of Steve who can easily eat a dozen scrambled eggs at a sitting). Even better, though, was the moment Steve leaned over and kissed Tony to shut him up during a movie. The others had howled and applauded (and Tony didn't miss the money changing hands between Natasha and Clint), while Tony's jaw just dropped.

It takes a lot more to shut Tony up these days, but Steve seems up for the task.

* * *

Eventually, Steve finishes cleaning up and drags Tony back out to wrap them both in thick towels. By now, all Tony wants to do is sleep, and he can read Steve well enough to tell that he needs it, too. He's the one who pulls the towels away and drops them in the general vicinity of the hamper (that's what cleaning services are for), who tugs Steve toward the gigantic bed and nudges him down to it once he's tugged the covers back.

"Coulson'll want to debrief us," Steve says, which is surely the sign of some loss of mental capacity.

"Coulson can wait 'til the goddamn morning," Tony replies. He climbs in next to Steve and pulls the sheets over them. Sculpted arms curl around him, and he feels a smile against his temple. A fleeting thought about alternative meanings for 'debriefing' flits through his head; he tucks it away. It'll keep for the morning.


End file.
